“We don’t, Signor Pesce, but I think we have a mutual friend.”
“Oh?”
“Someone who went to university with you in Pecia.”
“My curiosity is piqued.”
“Piqued enough to join me for a dance?”
He glanced at the dance floor. Although his mask hid his expression, he exuded reluctance. “I’d... rather not.”
My plan for interrogation had hinged on luring him to the dance floor, but his refusal foiled me. Mind spinning, I searched for something clever to say.
He studied me, eyes scraping over me from head to toe, lingering on my lips, which still felt raw and bruised from kissing Gideon. “This masquerade is not our idea of a real party.” He motioned to the group of young people surrounding him. “We were about to leave. There is another affair on the other side of the city.” His attention flashed again to the crowd behind me. “It should be less...” Repugnance soured his tone. “Disconcerting.”
“You mean a party with no drunken adults forgetting how to behave in public?”
“Precisely.” He peered down his nonexistent nose. “Join us, Lady Peacock?”
Flaring my skirt, I curtsied. “I’d be honored.”
He raised a finger. “But first you must pay the price of admission.”
I’d a stashed a few coins in my pocket. Not much money, but probably more than enough to buy my way into an exclusive party, even one for Isolas’s spoiled upper-class youth. “How much?”
“I want the name of our common acquaintance.”
I bit my lip, considering. What were the possible consequences of revealing that tidbit? Would it somehow endanger Brigette or our mission? I needed to get close to Taviano. I needed more time to ask him questions, and this party would be my best, and maybe my only, opportunity to do that. Besides, parties had a way of getting people to lower their guards. So did wearing masks. So did Brigette’s Magic charm around my neck.
“Her name is Brigette,” I said. “Do you know her?”
He rocked back on his heels as if my answer had struck him. He huffed a sharp breath. “Brigette Fontaine?”
Realizing I had never heard Brigette’s surname, I shrugged.
“Of course I know her.” His nose wrinkled. “She’s impossible to forget.” He paused, head cocked at a curious angle. “What is your relationship with her? You are not a Magician, though there is certainly something... enchanting about you.”
“No, not a Magician. I’m merely a patron of the Magical arts.”
“A patron?” By his tone, he was clearly interested. At my mention of money, he was hooked. My pathway to discovering his secrets became clearer by the moment.
“Brigette provided her services, helping me prepare for this masquerade.” I motioned to my long peacock cape. “She was well worth her cost.”
“Wait... is she here? In the city?”
I rolled a shoulder. “Perhaps.”
“Where are you staying?”
“I’ve already paid your admission price, Sir Magician. If you want more from me, you’ll have to give me something worth paying for.”
He paused, shoulders stiffening. “Like what?”
Taviano’s entourage had gathered around us, and like an ocean current, they carried us in a powerful tidal wave toward the exit. I gave him a wry grin as we spilled into the hallway outside the ballroom. “Let me think about it, Signor Pesce.”
“Please, call me Taviano.”
I nodded. “Only if you call me Liesl.”
Chapter 17
Taviano took my hand, and our group raced outside in an excited swarm, voices buzzing, punctuated with shouts and laughter. The rain had softened, enveloping us in a warm mist. Instead of splitting up among a collection of water taxis waiting near the Terrazzano’s dock, someone at the front of our group led us farther down the canal to an opulent barge, a floating paradise of crystal, rich hardwoods, silk, and velvet. As I climbed aboard, I glanced over my shoulder, searching for Gideon.
A tall figure in cape and hood stood half in shadows in a nearby doorway. He raised a hand and took a step back, drawing darkness around himself. He’d let me see him on purpose, allowing me to reassure myself he was following, watchful and present.
You’ll have plenty of time for him later, Grandfather said. Stay focused on your task and let him do his job.
I harrumphed. Easier said than done.
“Have a drink.” Taviano handed me a flute of something pink and bubbly. The damp air had tamed his sugar-floss hair, and rain droplets glimmered on his mask, glowing as the silvery seashell decorations spun and sparkled.
Touching the glass to my lips, I tasted berries, sunshine, and wine. On any other occasion, I might’ve drained the drink in a single gulp, but the success of the evening’s venture depended on keeping my wits sharp. Taviano slumped onto a padded bench, and when he looked away, I poured my drink overboard.
He patted the empty space beside him. “Join me, Liesl.”
I sat and swallowed my protest as he slipped his arm around my shoulder. He smelled of earth, minerals, and wine. “Relax, Lady Peacock. The real party is about to begin.”
Around the barge, young people paired off into smaller groups and couples. Someone called out what sounded like a warning, and the boat swayed and rocked as it launched, gliding toward the center of the canal. The boat’s motion rolled me into Taviano, and he took advantage, holding me closer.
